


King's Row

by Toodaloo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Almost crying, Fluff, Gay, Let junkrat have friends, Love Song, M/M, Stimming, super fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:28:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8867563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toodaloo/pseuds/Toodaloo
Summary: SO I HEARD YOU WANTED SOME FLUFF. NO? TOO BAD.





	

Cold. It was cold. Freezing was a better term to use since Junkrat could see his breath. Seemed as though he kept forgetting the joke that he had made ...over and over again. Something about being a dragon- something about ‘blowing smoke’. He was excited about that part, but the rest? This damned Holiday season? None of that really excited him.

The lanky blond was not built for the cold. Hell, he wasn't built for anything outside of Junkertown, Australia. Yet here he was, stationed in King’s Row with a few other Heroes. He knew what Christmas was, heard about it all the damn time whenever December rolled around. He had heard about snow and the Christmas trees, of mistletoe and Christmas Day Feasts, of Saint Nick and Krampus- now that he could get behind.

A fat man that breaks into your house to leave you presents? That made him think of Roadhog- albeit with the stealing instead of giving. What were they doing in King’s Row anyways. Of course he forgot. Junkrat had rolled himself up in countless blankets and yet he was still freezing. The little shit kept making jokes about how he was a Rat Burrito and needed to be warmed up. 

The small home that they decided to stay in had sufficient heat- hell, it had a damned fireplace. Junkrat was more than excited to set something ablaze, and here he sat, right in front of his creation. The burning logs before him were comforting. Something about fire and explosions, especially the little embers and crackling of the wood as it continued to burn. He absentmindedly wiped his nose along his forearm. A nice trail of snot ran along his skin. He didn't mind. He wiped it off on the blankets anyway.

The TV was humming away in the background. He wasn't particularly focused on it, yet having some form of white noise had always been beneficial. If the world around him was too quiet he'd have to make some noise. That usually ended in disaster. He cringed as cold skin met skin as he wiped his nose a second time.

“Aye Hoggy?”

“...”

He could tell he had the man’s attention by the way the book was lowered. He scrambled to his feet and plopped himself right next to his bodyguard on the couch, snuggling as closely as he could for warmth.

“Whaddya want for Christmas?”

“...”

“Awh me too, Mate. Oi wanna get outta he’a asap. ‘S too fuckin cold n’ me balls are gonna freeze off.”

“...”

This made the junker laugh and nudge up underneath Roadhog’s arm. As he did so, the book was shut gently and set to the side. With one massive hand he pulled Jamison onto his lap bridal style. Through those glassy lenses he watched as Junkrat wiped his nose for the third time. 

“So Christmas ‘s about good cheer n’ food n’ spendin’ toime with yer loved ones, roight?”

A nod was given as a reply. Junkrat curled his lanky, blanket-covered body against the roundness that was Mako’s stomach. Most certainly helped that the massive man was wearing a sweater. A dark red one at that.

“Then...why does everyone seem ta treat me badly? Oi mean, they love you, mate. Fuckin’ Hana and yerself ‘ave matchin’ bunny charms. Lucío and you share music, and ‘ell even fuckin’ Soldja:76 seems ta get along with ya. Am Oi doin’ somethin’ wrong? Oi try ta open up an’ make some friends n’ the loike but- ya see ‘ow the Antarctic Shiela and the Brit treat me. ‘s not very noice.”

A grumble came from the larger of the two. Junkrat was then sat upright and a massive thumb rolled over his chapped lips to his cheekbones. Roadhog’s mask was pulled off and set on top of his book moments later. Tired, sagging, light brown eyes gazed down at the young junker who was clearly upset. 

Junkrat rested his face in the enormous hand that cupped it. A deep sigh escaped the blond as he reached up and held around the massive tree trunk of an arm.

“Do they just not loike me? Am Oi doin’ somethin’ wrong, mate? Oi try- and...a-and Oi try,”

Junkrat’s voice was now beginning to waver. Roadhog knew what was coming next and held his Junker closer. One hand rubbed his back while the other combed through the patchy blondeness that was his hair. Just like Roadhog had predicted, tears began to sting at the edges of the boy’s eyes. 

His entire frail body shook as he inhaled. Snot and other disgusting things riddled his lungs and throat. It prevented him from speaking for a moment or two. He coughed violently into his hand. He cringed as the mucus clung to his skin in thick globs. It was turning orange. Junkrat was getting sick. Sinus infection by the looks of it. He flung it carelessly off into some part of the room. Neither of them seemed to mind.

“Maybe Oi’m not cut out for this Hero business, Hoggy. Oi don't seem ta fit in. For fuck’s sake we even got a fuckin’ cowboy and a cyborg ninja and yet Oi feel loike Oi’m the one stickin’ out tha most.”

The young junker’s sentence trailed off into a soft and quivering sigh as his hair was pet once more. The TV in the background filled up the room. Thank god it wasn't silence. Roadhog sighed along with him and slowly began to unravel his Rat from his nest. As he did so there were soft noises that seemed to be complaints, yet no movements that were indicating as such. 

The blankets were somehow big enough to fit around the both of them. Junkrat clung to Mako’s sweater and buried his face into it. He inhaled deeply and muttered into the fabric, “Mmm… ya can take an Aussie outta Oz butcha can't take the Oz outta an Aussie. Ya still smell loike motor oil n scrap metal, mate.”

As usual, the blond’s words were replied with silence.

“O’ course ‘s comfortin’, Hog! Smells jus’ loike home. Dunno ‘ow many toimes ya’ve bathed since we’ve joined Overwatch but it seemed’t’ve stuck to yer skin. Not that Oi moind anyway. ...Koinda prefer it ta be honest.”

A grumble followed this time. The younger’s ears perked and he glanced up at the heavily scarred and fat face that was his bodyguard’s. 

“Mmm...Oi know Oi know. But y’think that of all o’ tha people that’re in Overwatch, tha cowboy n’ samurai n’ all that would have trouble makin’ friends. Wha’s ‘is name? Jesse? Roight?”

He stares up at Mako to receive some sort of noise or look of conformation. He found it quickly. 

“That cunt ‘as more of a bounty on ‘is head than we do. ‘s not fair. Oi thought that when we’d join Oi’d foinally ‘ave people who cared about me. ...Other than you of course. Don't gimme wrong love, yer my entoire world but...Oi thought Oi’d make friends, y’know? Yet…”

Junkrat inhaled shakily again and stuffed his face back into the wool of Mako’s sweater. “O-Oi jus’ ...wanna make some friends,” He whispered, just barely over the drone of the TV. “Hoggy, O-Oi don't feel good. D’ya have the thing?”

Mako nodded and reached into one of his many pockets. Between his massive index and thumb was a small cube. A fidget cube. Junkrat quickly took it and began to click one of the many buttons on one of the sides at mach speed. As he did so, he was pulled closer. A low hum began somewhere deep in Mako’s chest.

Junkrat recognized the song immediately: Pōkarekare ana. A song- no, a love song that Mako had taught him. They had spent countless nights learning the song over and over again. Repeating and repeating until it was stuck in the younger junker’s head. It was one of the things that he couldn't forget.

He had to speak the lyrics. He had to hear them. He had to. “Whiti atu koe hine, Marino ana e.” Junkrat recited from memory. His twitching fingers switched to a different side of the cube. This time it was a ball that he could roll underneath his thumb. Finally Roadhog spoke.

“E hine e, Hoki maira, Kamate au.”

“ie te aroha e,” Junkrat’s voice was barely above a whisper for a second time that night. The two began to recite the lyrics together.

“Tuhituhi taka rita, Tuku atu taki ringi, Kla kiti to iwi, Raru raru ana e.”

“Mmm,” The young junker’s hum broke the song slightly. He continued to roll the ball under his thumb and clung to Mako with his free arm. “I could die,”

“Of love, for you.” Roadhog finished and leant down, planting a firm kiss on his boss’ lips. He was starting to come back. There was a smile forming on his face, and a nearly crooked one at that. 

‘I could die of love for you,” The large man began again and couldn't help but smile as Junkrat began to grin. “I could die of love for you.” he parroted back. He wiggled up and began to rub his nose against Mako’s, laughing all the while. “Y’know exactly what ta do when Oi get daown, mate. Chroist Hoggy me Heart, where would Oi be withoutcha?”

“Dead.”

 

“...Yer prolly roight.”


End file.
